I Just Want You to Know Who I Am
by CorporateConfessional
Summary: A drunken Harry Potter causes a few problems which lead to the changing of Voldemort's (and, consequentially, everyone else's) gender. Now we follow the life of Hayle Potter. It has ups, downs, a Malfoy in Gryffindor, Hayle remembering Harry, and overall,
1. Prologue: Dejected Birthday

Prologue: Dejected Birthday

_And when the sun is goin' down  
__And there is no place to hide  
__Even in the brightest light  
__You might lean towards the darker side_

_-- "Darker Side", by Jonny Lang_

Harry Potter lay down on his bed, even though he knew he wouldn't sleep tonight. He hadn't slept at all, not since his return from his fifth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Not since Sirius had died, or fallen through the veil, or whatever it was. He sighed, a sound he had made a lot of lately. At times, Harry sighed more often than he breathed, or so Dudley had pointed out that morning (after coming home from a party obviously hung over and stoned off his fat ass). Realizing how true that actually was, he crossed his bedroom to take out a piece of parchment, his quill, and some ink.

After this new addition, Harry reviewed his list of sins:

- I am the reason my parents are dead  
- I am a horrible friend  
- I have made Hogwarts unsafe for everyone  
- I hurt all the people I love  
- I am gay

He stopped here, and remembered how he had discovered this repugnant part of himself. It had been after his first kiss with Cho. He hadn't really felt _any_thing during it, and he wondered if it would've been better if it was with a guy...it was then that it clicked. He had always appreciated the male form more than a woman's body, and preferred to check out boys for that reason, but he had thought nothing of it then. But once his lips touched Cho's, and there was nothing, he knew that girls were just not for him. He should have come out to Ron and Hermione right there and then, but he was worried about their reaction, and with all the troubles of Voldemort's return, it didn't really seem appropriate. "Oh, well. I'll come out of the closet on the train. Now back to my list," he said

- I am stupid  
- I am naïve to a fault  
- I am self-centered  
- I killed Sirius  
- I sigh too much.

He counted ten flaws. Ten reasons he didn't deserve to be alive. Ten reasons to punish himself, as well as many more which he didn't write down. Harry decided he needed to cleanse himself. He wrenched up the loose floorboard under his bed, and retrieved a knife. He had originally put it there in case Dudley and his friends went a little too far, which they had done after smoking a little too much weed, but he imagined this use would help the world more.

Harry dragged the blade across his arm (not down his arm, he didn't want to _kill_ himself, just cleanse himself of the filth that was his past). Ten cuts for ten failings. His first, fifth, and ninth reasons were the ones which cut the deepest, emotionally as well as physically. After finishing his "work", Harry realized that it was 11:59. He counted down out loud. "Ten...nine...eight...seven...six...five...four...three...two...one. Happy fucking birthday, Harry Potter. Thus ends the most miserable year of your life, and it's only bound to get worse." He sighed. Again. "What a wondrous life it is being the savior of the wizarding world, eh, Hedwig?" he sarcastically asked his snowy owl. He looked out the window, and flopped onto his bed once more after realizing his friends couldn't owl him anything, by order of the Order. Ugh. He mentally reminded himself to add "bad puns" to his list in the morning.

* * *

A/N: How'd you guys like the first chapter of IJWU2KWIA? This fic is pretty slow-moving, and I'm sorry about that. I have to thank my beta, LyingAwake, and all of my reviewers/fans on FictionAlley. w00t! 


	2. Chapter 1: Return to Hogwarts

Chapter 1: Return to Hogwarts

Maybe I've been here before  
I know this room, I've walked this floor  
I used to live alone before I knew you  
I've seen your flag on the marble arch  
love is not a victory march  
It's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah  
  
Hallelujah, Hallelujah  
Hallelujah, Hallelujah  


_-- "Hallelujah", by Rufus Wainwright_

Once on the Hogwarts Express, Harry thought of partaking in his two new hobbies; cutting and sighing. Then he realized he couldn't, not without getting into trouble. "Oh, well," he thought out loud, "at least Hogwarts is better than the Dursleys'. If they found out about my cutting, they'd send me to a nice 'mental health clinic.' More like a dodgy detention center. Hogwarts can't do anything about it."

"Hey, Harry," came the all-too-familiar voice of his best friend, Ron Weasley.

"Oh, hi, Ron," Harry said, trying to smile, but more or less wincing. Ron opened his mouth to try and console him, but thought better of it.

"Here," said Ron, handing his best friend a gold and red package. "Happy belated birthday, Harry. Sorry I couldn't send it like always; Dumbledore said that wouldn't be a good idea to draw any attention to you or the Dursleys. Don't want another Dementor attacking you. Though Dudley... "

Harry was surprised; after the prat he'd been last year, he wasn't expecting to get any gifts. Harry opened it and saw a Snitch unlike any he had ever seen. It was like a miniature crystal ball with wings. His melancholy replaced by curiosity, he asked what it was.

"It's a Mood Snitch," said Ron. "It's not really for Quidditch; it's more of a stress-relief kind of thing. You hold it in your hand and it becomes the thing you want most. I'll show you."

Ron grabbed the Snitch and closed his eyes for a moment, and let it go. As the Snitch floated up, it morphed into a miniature Hermione. Ron blushed the famous Weasley red and quickly recaptured the Snitch.

Harry grinned. It had been obvious Ron and Hermione loved each other ever since the Yule Ball incident in fourth year. While thinking about Hermione, he finally noticed she wasn't there.

"Oh, she's off with Ginny," Ron said when Harry asked him about it, "doing Merlin knows what."

As if on cue, Hermione and Ginny entered the car, giggling madly.

"Hey guys," Hermione called, once out of her giddy haze. "Happy birthday, Harry."

She handed him a gift, which ended up being an enchanted diary, much like the one Tom Riddle had. Harry gave it a mildly suspicious look.

"Before I let you take this," said Hermione, "you have to promise that you won't use it to possess anyone."

Hermione had meant it as a joke, but Ginny paled.

"Oh, Ginny," she gasped. "I'm so sorry!"

Ron and Harry went off to find a seat while the girls trailed after them, with Hermione apologizing profusely to Ginny.

A small part of Harry's mind wondered why he was getting all these mood-oriented presents. Maybe his friends thought allowing him to wallow in his misery would make it go away? When on the Express, Ginny handed him the usual Weasley family birthday gift, and then he started to stare out the window, tuning out the babbling teenagers who were now milling around him.

A few hours into his doze, Malfoy came into the car for his ritual harassment. Surprisingly, he was alone (The common theory on this was that the witch with the food cart must be in the car with Crabbe and Goyle). While the same "Scarhead" and "orphan" insults were being thrown, Harry just looked Draco over. Draco wore his hair loose now, so you could see how long it really was, and it gave him a slightly effeminate, but still dangerous, appearance. He was leaning against the doorframe, staring expectantly at Harry, waiting for his reaction.

When Harry didn't rise to the bait, he sneered and asked, "Merlin, Potter, what _happened_ to you? You look like your dog died or something. Oh, well, it was probably a mangy mutt who's better off dead."

This was all said in a tone that suggested he knew about Sirius. Harry had forgotten that Bellatrix, Narcissa and Sirius had been cousins; of course Draco would know.

That was the breaking point. Harry leapt up, grabbed Draco's collar, and slammed him against the doorframe, his head making a pleasantly resounding "thunk" on the contact.

"Don't you dare insult Sirius," he hissed. "Even as a convicted murderer, he was ten times the man you could ever _dream_ of being!"

Harry continued on, and Draco tuned him out and examined him instead. Not that he had much else to look at; the other boy was only an inch or two from his face. Potter had gotten rid of those god awful round glasses, and traded them in for more boxy ones that looked like they were from a Mudblood's Muggle "CB" or something. Harry had also let his hair grow out, and it was just past his chin, which drew you into the way his whole face looks, rather than just the scar. A surprisingly tactical move for Potter, who Draco had always thought inept at fashion.

"Malfoy?" Harry growled, drawing Draco out of his musings. "Are you even listening to me? Never mind; most of that would have gone over your head anyway." With a last shove and a small growl, Harry let go of the blonde, at which point they just looked at each other, not even bothering to glare.

This "exchange" took about a minute, during which the girls looked smug and knowing, Ron seemed lost, and Harry and Draco were oblivious, each caught in their own thoughts. No one noticed when Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas slid open the compartment door until the Irish boy cleared his throat, bringing the whole car back to reality. Draco stalked off to a chorus relieved muttering and a loud 'good riddance' from Ron. There was an awkward little silence which ended when Seamus suggested a game of Exploding Snap, which was just what they all did the rest of the train ride to Hogwarts.

* * *

A/N: So, R&R for Chapter 1! Pleeeeease? Again, I heart you, LyingAwake and all o' my reviewers on FA. Review and get pixie sticks! 


	3. Chapter 2: The Accident

Chapter 2: The Accident

_Simple living is my desperate cry  
__Been trading love with indifference, and yeah, it suits me just fine  
__I try to hold on, but I'm calloused to the bone  
__Maybe that's why I feel alone, yeah  
__Maybe that's why I feel so alone_

_'Cause me...I'm rusted and weathered  
__Barely holding together  
__I'm covered with skin that peels and it just won't heal_

_-- "Weathered", by Creed_

The Sorting and Welcoming Feast went smoothly, although there was a noticeable drop in the number of children being sorted into Slytherin. Other than that, Harry Potter's sixth year began as normally as anything at Hogwarts can be. Unfortunately, that would all end sooner than expected.

* * *

September first was a Friday, so the students had the weekend to catch up on gossip, review their schedules, and finish their summer homework. As Harry, Ron, and Hermione studied their schedules on Saturday morning; they let out a collective groan. They had Double Potions with the Slytherins first thing Monday morning.

"What wonderful fucking luck," Ron whined.

"Ron, watch your language; prefects shouldn't be crude. Besides, at least we'll get it over with early, right?" Hermione said, trying to lighten the mood.

"It's not that, it's the fact that we'll be stuck in a room with that _faggot_ Malfoy for two hours that's bothering me."

Hermione, who had figured out that Harry was less than straight, reprimanded Ron. "Ron, that's terrible! How do you even know if he's gay?"

"You slapped Malfoy in third year, and he didn't fight back. He's a pansy."

"Maybe he's just a gentleman."

"Or maybe he's just too much of a fairy to fight back, even if it's a girl he's fighting."

"So now you're assuming that girls are weak?"

"Weaker than boys. It's just common sense, 'Mione."

"Ugh...you are just so...ugh!"

Ron and Hermione didn't speak to each other the rest of the day. Harry was the go-between for them, despite the fact that he didn't say a word.

"Harry, ask Hermione if I can copy her homework."

"Harry, tell Ron that he cannot copy my homework."

"Harry, tell Hermione that she's being a hypocrite. She'll let _you_ copy, yet she refuses to let _me_ copy."

"Harry, tell Ron that I am _not_ being a hypocrite. I never let sexist foulmouthed people copy my homework."

And it went like that for the remainder of the day, until Harry finally spoke and told them both to shut up.

* * *

When Harry woke up the next morning, he expected Hogwarts to be as normal, loud, raucous, and free-spirited. But that was not what he found. He found Hogwarts to be nearly as solemn as the day everyone finally acknowledged Voldemort's return.

"Why's everyone so downcast?"

"Don't you know, Harry?" Ron asked.

"Obviously not, if I'm asking."

"Oh. Right. Well, after You-Know-Who killed his family, he laid low for a few years. His first victims after that were Cian and Ríonach Tierney. They were two of the best Aurors of their time, and both Muggleborn. Needless to say, he couldn't _stand_ them. He thought they were a disgrace to wizards, fighting for the so-called 'Mudbloods' and other 'lesser beings', not to mention that they were 'Mudbloods' themselves. So he went right to their house, Crucio-ed them for an hour each (supposedly) and then Avada-ed them."

"Yes, it is horrible. But why would _I_ know this?"

"They were your dad's godparents."

Harry was shocked. He had thought he learned everything about his family last year, but apparently this was far from true.

"But, what does that have to do with today?"

"Today's the fiftieth anniversary of their murder, mate."

"Oh."

The whole of Hogwarts was silent and somber for the rest of the day. Even Peeves was respectful of the lost souls.

* * *

With all that Harry learned that weekend, he was horribly depressed. On top of that, everything reminded him of his Godfather. By Monday morning, he needed a Cheering Charm every hour just to keep him from jumping off the Astronomy Tower. Unfortunately, all these Cheering Charms had an aftereffect; they gave you a high that wouldn't go away for a week. "Oh, well, at least the only thing I'll be able to feel is giggly and the munchies," was his last coherent thought.

Due to his "state", Harry was not at his peak in Potions class that morning. He had melted fourteen cauldrons that morning, nearly beating Neville's record of fifteen. On his fifteenth attempt at making _Cielo di Seta_ (which was, ironically, a high-inducing potion), Harry made the near-fatal mistake of staring at the flame for twenty minutes, and then, remembering what he should be doing, threw all the un-cut ingredients (and possibly his homework) into the cauldron. As the potion turned the darkest shade of black (as opposed to hot pink and lime green swirls, the correct color), Professor Snape knew something was amiss, and attempted to keep Potter from doing anything dangerously stupid. Too late. Harry was drooling as he was looking into the potion, saying, "Ooooooooooh, preeeeeeeeettyyyyyyyy." And the moment his spit touched the surface of the inky concoction, everyone in the Potions classroom was transported to a place none of them would ever have suspected.

* * *

A/N: Yay! Another chapter down! Thanks to LyingAwake and my reviewers again! w00t! This time you'll get chocolate confetti for reviewig...yummay. 


	4. Chapter 3: Inside the Cell

Chapter 3: Inside the Cell

_I miss life  
I miss the colors of the world  
Can anyone tell where I am  
  
'Cause now again I've found myself  
So far down, away from the sun  
That shines into the darkest place  
I'm so far down, away from the sun again  
Away from the sun again  
  
-- "Away From the Sun", by 3 Doors Down_

The first thing Harry felt upon stopping was relief, and he could tell he wasn't he only one. It had felt like Flooing, Portkeying, and Apparating all at the same time, multiplied by a hundred. Suffice it to say; it looked like even those _used_ to wizarding transportation didn't like this experience very much, and it had also caused Harry's high to begin to ebb.

Once everyone had recovered from the jarring trip, the students took in their surroundings. There was no ground, yet they didn't appear to be falling; there was no source of light, yet there was no sign of darkness, either. Everything was a strange swirling grey, save the trespassers.

"Well, fuck-up, I don't think we're in Kansas anymore, nor are we in Hogwarts," sneered Blaise Zabini. Our drugged-up hero hazily wondered how a pureblood knew of a Muggle movie. At Harry's questioning look, he said, "My younger sister has an odd fascination with Muggles. Mother and Father figure letting her see how boring, stupid, and primitive Muggles are will help her grow out of it. _That's_ why I know of 'The Wizard of Oz', Potter, so you can stop looking at me like that."

"Lookie here, we have out own rendition of 'The Wizard of Oz'!" he giggled. "We have a scared li'l Dorothy," pointing at a shaking Pansy Parkinson, "looking for a way home. We have _two_ Scarecrows," indicating a confused Crabbe and Goyle, "in desperate need of some brains. A Tinman," now looking at Snape, "who's _so_ sad and heartless. A Cowardly Lion," returning to Mr. Zabini, "who wants some courage. And we have the honor of getting the new character, the Albino Ferret," approaching Draco in a drunkenly friendly manner, and putting his hand on the other boy's shoulder, "who is _severely_ lacking any semblance of balls." Harry had said all this with a straight face, and then dissolved into a fit of maniacal laughter.

"While that was quite amusing, Mister Potter, I do believe we should attempt to get out of here on time for your detention encore," came the silkily sarcastic voice of Professor Snape.

"Whatever you say, Sevvy," was the inebriated reply. Well, not _entirely_ inebriated, only half in-the-bag, but Harry had always wanted to sass Snape, and this was truly the best opportunity.

"Mister Potter, you are lucky that you are three sheets to the wind, as well as the fact that I have no idea what kind of effect this place will have on my magic, or I would do some truly unspeakable things. I have dealt with the incompetence of you and your classmates for six years, and this situation is grating on my last nerve. I am very, _very_ close to using the Unforgivables on you so hard you'll be thrown to Uzbekistan and back by the sheer force of it."

"Hehe. You said 'Uzbekistan'."

Severus sighed. "This is going to be a_ long _day. Come along, children. We need to find out where in the nine Hells we are."

"We're in Hell? Nooooo!" and then started rambling and gibbering about being dead and not repenting.

Hermione cut off Harry by magically silencing him.

"I'm sorry, Harry," she said, "But you were getting awfully annoying."

"Thank you, Miss Granger, for doing what I have wanted to do for the past six years. Now that we know that there's no issue with magic, _I_ will go find out what this place is. **_Touch._** **_Nothing._** I don't want to have to explain why one of you is dead when we return. It may ruin my tenure."

Once left alone, the students were buzzing with ideas, theories, and general bullshit about where they were.

"We're in space!"

"We're not in space, idiot. If we were, we'd be dead by now from lack of oxygen."

"I bet Snape set this up so he could sell our souls to You-Know-Who."

"Please. That's ludicrous. It's obvious we really _are_ in Hell, seeing as we'll be stuck with you Gryffin-dorks for all eternity."

Malfoy snorted; though Harry, jarred back to sanity by his silencing, noticed it was dignified. Or as dignified as a snort can be, at least.

"Please, Nott, do you _really_ think we'd be placed in Hell? Surely you don't think any of us Slytherins have earned eternal damnation? In fact, the only ones who really should be in Hell are the blood-traitors and the Mudbloods."

At that Harry gave a pleading look to Hermione, begging her with his eyes to free him so he could hex Malfoy to the real Hell, or at least retaliate with an insult of his own. After silently agreeing to Hermione's clause of sanity and no Unforgivables, she allowed him to speak again.

"Hm. I always thought that it was the bigots and the supporters of genocide that went to Hell, rather than the promoters of equality. Oh, well, if you're the type who goes to Heaven, I suppose I don't want to go there after all. Besides, I figure Hell will be more fun. Much better parties, I guess."

"Of course you'd think that, you Satan-worshipping Mudblood-fucker!"

"Satan-worshipper? Me? You _do_ know that the Bible condemns ALL magic, right? As in, if Heaven and Hell do exist, you're going down with me? Not to mention **I'm** not the one who approves of killing people because of who their parents are rather than because of who they are. Though in your case, I might make an exception."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well, your parents are as much assholes as you are, so why not use them as a reason to torture you before giving you the slow, painful death you deserve?"

"You're a disgrace to wizardkind."

"Oh, honestly. You need a new song and dance; these are old enough to make the Charleston seem brand new."

"The _what_?"

"Never mind...you're too thick to get it anyway, if you're anything like your thugs."

Draco could take insults about his family, as he wasn't that fond of them either, but insinuating that his intelligence is equivalent to Crabbe and Goyle's...that was crossing the line. He drew his wand and said, "_Furnunculus!_" thus began a wizarding duel which involved such ruthless tactics as deception (Draco gasped and stuttered, "A-a-a-a-a...a d-d-d-d-dem-dem-deme-DEMENTOR!!!!" in an immature and unsuccessful attempt to get Harry to look away) to nearly dropping their wands and fist-fight, at least once it became apparent that this duel was not to be quick, nor was it going to be painless. However, they kept the mayhem purely magical, and after what seemed like days, Draco had become tired and annoyed at Potter for being so damn unbeatable, and said the two most fearsome words in any wizard or witches' life --

"_Avada Kedavra!_"

Harry ducked out of the way, and the flash of green light hit a giant blob the same swirling grey as the rest of their surroundings. When the place, wherever it was, started to tremble as if they were experiencing an earthquake, it dawned on them all that this was something epic.

Draco's eyes became as wide as...well, Harry had never seen anything that wide; and he muttered, "Oh, sh--"

He never got to finish the sentence, because he, and everyone else they knew and loved, disappeared.

* * *

The "thing" Draco had killed was the Y-chromosome of one Tom Marvolo Riddle, better known as Lord Voldemort. That means that Mister Riddle now became Miss Riddle.

But what does that have to do with the rest of them?

Well, you see, Voldemort's fate is tied to that of the wizarding world. If something major changes in his life, the world will change accordingly, so as not to throw off the needed balance.

In short, if something changes in Voldemort's life, it affects the past, present, and future of the wizarding world.

* * *

"It's a girl!"

"A girl?" thought Mrs. Riddle. "I had wanted to name it after the father. Hm. Well, I'll just feminize the name. But to what? What girl's name can you make from Tom? All I can think of is Tomya. I suppose that will do."

"Mrs. Riddle? What shall we name this beautiful little girl of yours?"

"Tomya. Tomya Mavola Riddle."

And with that, our story _truly_ begins.

* * *

A/N: Another one down. Next chapter we meet the female version of Harry and his (her) family...nifty, idn't it? Thanks to LyingAwake, my reviewers, and everyone else. Review for sexy hoodies. 


	5. Chapter 4: Meet Hayle Potter

Chapter 4: Meet Hayle Potter

_I'm just a kid  
__And life is a nightmare  
__I'm just a kid  
__I know that it's not fair  
__Nobody cares 'cause I'm alone in the world  
__Is having more fun than me_

_-- "I'm Just A Kid", by Simple Plan_

"HAYLE JAME POTTER GET DOWN HERE THIS INSTANT!!!!"

"Uh oh. What'd I do _now_?" Hayle moaned to her empty room.

"HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAYLEEEEEEEE!"

"Coming, Dad!" Liam Potter was **not** a person to keep waiting when mad.

As she passed the calendar on her wall, she noticed something: Today was her eleventh birthday. Today she would learn whether or not she would go to Hogwarts.

"Great. One of the most important days of my life, and Mum has a game."

Hayle's mother, Jamie Evans-Potter, was a Chaser for the British National Quidditch Team, the top team in Europe for as long as Hayle could remember. Needless to say, this job required a lot of traveling.

To balance the frequent absence of her mother, Hayle's father, Liam Potter, stayed home. Which he could afford, being a successful inventor. His name was synonymous with the E-Z Bake Cauldron, a cauldron that practically makes the potion for you. All you have to do is put the ingredients in the tray at the bottom, say the name of the potion, and wait. The only type of potions the E-Z Bake Cauldron couldn't handle were ones where emotion is a key factor. Those will always be made by hand. But we digress.

Once down the stairs, Hayle looked around, and saw no one. She wondered where everyone was. Until she heard a voice behind her say, "Dear Mr. and Mrs. Potter, we regret to inform you that because your daughter is an insufferable prat who doesn't obey her father the **first** time he asks her to do something, we must reject her from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. My deepest sympathies, Mervin McGonagall, Deputy Headmaster."

"Mum! You're home! How?" Hayle said, turning towards her mother, who was emerging from her Invisibility Cloak.

"Coach let me off. It's not _every_day your firstborn daughter is accepted into one of the most prestigious wizarding schools in the world."

"So can I get a wand and stuff now?"

Liam cut in here from under the Cloak. "Of course you can, sweetie. I only wanted you to live like a Muggle so you'd know your heritage. You'll get to be a witch all your life, and I don't want you to end up being clueless to a lot of the world, like some wizards--" here he added a fake cough which sounded suspiciously like the name Malfoy "--are."

"So we can go now?"

All Liam and Jamie could do was roll their eyes and sigh. While she was always enthusiastic, sometimes with Hayle, things were just in one ear and out the other.

* * *

Jamie and Hayle Flooed to The Leaky Cauldron, from which Jamie tapped the third brick to the left above the trash bin, and Hayle caught her first glimpse of Diagon Alley, a place which would have substantial meaning in her life.

"Mum, why couldn't Dad come with us?"

"Because he has to wait for your sister to get home, Hayle."

"Dréa's nine years old, she can stay home by herself."

"She's bringing a friend over. I don't think I'd ever trust _either_ of you home alone with a friend."

"Very funny, Mum."

"Come on, we have to go get you your school things. What do you need?"

"Uhhhhhhh..."

"Oh, forget it, I know for a **fact** that the list of requirements hasn't changed since your father and I went to Hogwarts. Let's just go get some ice cream."

"Uh. Okay...?"

Jamie called Liam using an enchanted cell phone (another one of his wonderful inventions) to tell him that she and Hayle would be home much sooner than expected.

"All right, what are we waiting for? Let's go."

"Cool."

As the two women ate their ice cream, Hayle started to wonder if Dréa's friend was the real reason why it was just her and her mum. "Mum, what's the real reason why Dad didn't come?"

Jamie sighed. "If I tell you, do you _promise_ to do all your chores **complaint-free** for a month?"

"Yessssssss! Tell meeeeeeee!!!"

"Pinky swear."

They locked pinkies as a "proof-of-promise", as Jamie called it.

"All right. Your father's at home, setting up your surprise birthday party."

"Really!?!?!"

"Yes. And he has all of your school stuff ready, except for your robes (which is my cover) and your wand, which we're going to get as a family."

"COOL!!!!"

"So, let's go to Madam Malkin's and get you your school robes."

"All right!"

After they left Madam Malkin's and headed back to The Leaky Cauldron, Jamie reminded Hayle to act surprised.

"Of course, Mum. I'm not _that_ dumb."

"Why do I doubt that?"

"Muuuum!"

"All right, let's go."

* * *

A few moments later, Hayle and Jamie were surrounded by smiling faces and gifts.

"SURPRISE!!!!!!!!"

Hayle gasped and tried to act surprised, but failed miserably.

"You told her, didn't you, Prongs?" asked Syria Black, Hayle's Godmother and Jamie's best friend since their Hogwarts days.

"I had to, Padfoot. She was badgering me, and you of all people should know that I have no patience."

"Syria!!!!" Hayle yelled, finally noticing something other than the gifts. She ran over to her Godmother and gave her a hug.

"Well, I see how it is. No one ever notices poor old Moony." said Rhea Lupin, another one of the infamous Marauders and Syria's "close friend", in a tone of mock disappointment.

"Auntie Rhea!!! It's been ages!!" Hayle said, also glomping her Godmother's girlfriend.

"Yes, it has. And you're growing into a spitting image of Jamie. Except for those eyes. If you didn't have those emeralds, I'd worry about whether or not Liam is your real Dad."

"Very funny, Rhea. You know that Liam has always been, and will always be, the only man for me." Jamie said, putting her arms around her husband.

"Well, now that we've gone down Memory Lane, can we open presents now?" whined Andréa, who was almost as anxious as Hayle.

"Why are you so excited, Dréa? It's _my_ birthday, yours isn't 'til September." Hayle asked.

"Because I know my gift kicks ar--bum." Dréa corrected herself, remembering the adult-to-Dréa ratio of the room was not in her favor.

So, Hayle opened her gifts. She got a wizard Polaroid (yet another Liam Potter Innovation™) from her Mum and Dad, so she could take photos of friends she makes ("And trouble she makes," added Syria.) at Hogwarts. From Syria and Rhea, she got a Snitch, which she thought to be somewhat useless without a broom. All of her mother's extra brooms were with the team, so she couldn't even borrow one from her. But all that had changed with Dréa's gift. Dréa had used some of her savings to buy her sister a brand new Nimbus Two Thousand broom. Hayle had nearly had a conniption when she saw it. She resolved to get Dréa the best gift _ever_ for her eleventh birthday.

* * *

After all the gifts had been opened, the whole group went back to Diagon Alley to get Hayle her first wand. After the measurements had been taken, Madam Ollivander went and picked out several wands for Hayle.

"Maybe you'd like this, a teak wand. It is just a bit over nine and one-quarter inches long. The core consists of unicorn hair." Hayle tried it, and Syria's nose grew to the length of three feet.

"Hey, you look like Sevra Snape with a nose like that!" commented Jamie.

"Shut up," Syria said, sounding quite nasal as she shrunk her nose to normal size.

"Miss Potter, try this, a finely-carved yew wand. In length, it is ten and one-eighth inches long. This wand's core is salamander heartstring." Hayle attempted to use this wand, and managed to conjure up a Muggle from his bathtub. After many apologies, and a few memory-changing spells, they managed to get the poor man back to his bath.

"Maybe this will work. Holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches, nice and supple." Hayle held this wand, a pleasing warmth spread through her, and red and gold sparks came from the tip of the wand.

"Congratulations, Miss Potter. You've just found your first wand. Or, rather, your first wand has found you. Though I must say, the fact that this wand chose you is curious. Very curious."

"Excuse me, but why is it curious?"

"Because, Miss Potter, the phoenix whose tailfeather resides in your wand gave another feather. Just one other. And that feather went into the wand of one Miss Tomya Mavola Riddle."

"_The_ Tomya Riddle? The award-winning journalist turned femiNazi?"

"Yes, that Tomya Riddle. Hayle, I expect you to do great things. She has done great things. Terrible things, yes, but great...well; she would have, if she weren't such a madcap. Anyway, that'll be eleven Sickles."

Hayle paid and left the store, wondering what great things would be meant for her.

* * *

A/N: I have to thank the real Hayle and Drea, for inspiring me for more original names than Harriet and Sam/Jane/Caitlin/Some other generic name. As always, thanks to my reviewers, and LyingAwake. I heart y'all! Review for the honey-coated literary character of your choice. 


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